


And They Were Roommates

by NotSoHappyMeals



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Nightwing Smut, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:43:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoHappyMeals/pseuds/NotSoHappyMeals
Summary: Dick is forced to get a roommate because he's too stubborn to ask Bruce for money.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First relationship-y so don't hate too much.  
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.

~Dick’s POV~  
It was one of the rare nights that I actually came back to my apartment to sleep, usually I just sleep at the precinct, but tonight I don’t have to work nor, do I have to be on patrol. I was extremely excited to sleep for sixteen hours straight, but those plans were ruined by a note taped to my door, that read, “Due to high crime, squatters, the rising cost of rent and utilities, along with the fact that you are THREE MONTHS behind on your rent, I recommend you find a reliable roommate or a new place of residency.” I was shocked, surely, I couldn’t be three months behind, but I guess I should put out an ad for a roommate. First, though, I need to pay my rent. I go into the apartment and walk through to my closet, where I keep my safe. I open the safe and pull out four thousand dollars, which I think is an outrage, but this is the cheapest apartment building I could find. I take the money down to the landlord’s place and I knock on the door, “Just a minute!” she yells.  
A few seconds later she opens the door. She is an older woman about sixty or seventy with short grey hair and chocolaty brown eyes. “What can I do for you, Richard?”  
“I brought my missed rent and next months too.” I reply.  
“So, you got the notice I left?” I nod, “What about a roommate?”  
“I’m, uh… Working on it?”  
She raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking me or telling me, Grayson?”  
“Telling, ma’am.” I mumbled.  
“Good, now go and get some rest.” With that, I say goodnight and went up to bed.   
The next morning, I put out an ad for a roommate, and hoped that no crazy people would answer it. However, I live in Bludhaven, it may next to impossible to get an even relatively sane person to apply.


	2. A Coffee And A Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting for coffee gets a little cringy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cringe. please don't hate.

Now, me being me, I ran a background check on everyone who replied to my advertisement, because of deep seated paranoia instilled upon me at an early age (thanks Bruce). Only one person who could possibly be considered sane applied, her name was Claire Schoone. She had a drug problem a few years back that she kicked, and also had a history of abusive boyfriends. She got away from her last boyfriend because I, well Nightwing, beat the crap out of him. He may or may not have needed three surgeries… I may be a little rougher with abusers than I am with the average thug. Maybe it’s just that karma’s a bitch.  
The next week I set a meeting up a meeting to get to know her, but the night before we were supposed to meet while on patrol I came across a carjacker, to make a long story short I got cut, deep. The next day, I wore a simple blue hoodie and black jeans. We decided on a café in a nicer part of town, and when I got there I was a little early, so I ordered some coffee and waited.  
Around five minutes passed until I heard from behind me “Are you Richard Grayson?” I stand and turn around, to see the most beautiful pair of big green eyes looking up at me. I look her up and down, she was wearing a white short-sleeve blouse and light skinny jeans, her hazelnut hair was in a high ponytail with a few strands framing her face perfectly, the afternoon sun hitting her bronzed skin to make it seem as though she was glowing.  
“Uh, yeah but my friends call me Dick.” I reply, shifting my weight nervously.  
“I’m Claire, Claire Schoone. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand for me to shake.  
“Nice to meet you as well,” I say shaking her hand. I motion for her to sit down. “Do you want some coffee or anything? My treat.”  
“Sure. I’ll come with you.” We started walking to the counter to get the drinks, there was no line, so we didn’t have time to talk before we ordered. She ordered a simple vanilla latte and I got a caramel triple espresso. She gave me a look like “Really?” but I didn’t give it a second thought.  
“So, tell me about yourself.” She said as we walked back to the table.  
“Well, my name is Richard John Grayson, but you can call me Dick, I’m twenty-six, I grew up in Gotham, and I am a detective at Bludhaven PD. Your turn.”  
“Um, Claire Schoone, I’m twenty-eight, I’ve lived here- oh shit you’re bleeding!” she points to my forearm where the little bitch cut me last night, I look down and I see dark-red blood seeping through the cloth of my hoodie.  
“This is an inconvenience.” I say as I start taking off my hoodie, “would you mind running to grab some napkins?”  
“Hmm? Oh, sure…” she replies still looking at my arms. I don’t realize what she found so interesting until I remembered my scars, and there are quite a few of them. “Please?” that seemed to snap her out of her trance and she went to get the napkins. In the thirty seconds it took for her to come back I was mentally scolding myself.  
“Here… how did you- “  
“Get the scars? I had a… let’s call it, a rough childhood. I’ve got a suture kit in my car. Walk with me?” I didn’t think anything of what I said, until she stopped. “That sounded really creepy, didn’t it?”  
“Yeah… that was really creepy. How are you not worried about that?”  
“It hurts, I’m just used to it.” I bend over to roll up my pant leg revealing a small knife in a leather sheathe. I pull it out using my thumb and middle finger, “Here, if you feel threatened go for it. I won’t hold it against you.” I hand her the knife.  
She hesitates but takes it and follows silently. When we get to my car I open the passenger door, and I take a little plastic container from the glove box. She tenses. Inside is a spool of fishing line, a needle, and a flask. When I show her the contents she eases her grip on the handle.  
I take the flask and pour some of the burning liquid onto the wound, I hiss. “Hell of a first impression, huh?” she says with a dry laugh. I smile and finish tying the line through the eye of the needle.  
“Yeah, not how I expected this to go.” I start the first suture and wince.  
“Do want some help with that? I’m a second-year surgical intern at Bludhaven General.”  
“Are you sure? I mean yeah if you want to, but you don’t have to.”  
“YES! I mean, yes, I’ll stitch you up. I should practice my Purse-string sutures.” She takes the needle from me and starts to stitch my arm. I take a very large sip from my flask.  
“So, what kind of surgeon do you want to be?” I ask.  
“Pediatrics. I’ve always loved kids and if I get to help even one, I’ll die happy.” She replies with a smile. “And… we’re done.”  
“Really? I hardly even felt that!” I exclaim.  
She smiled even wider, God she looked beautiful. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you have someone with experience stitching someone up.” She checks her watch, “Shit, my shifts in an hour. Uh, I can move in on my next day off, I’ll text you, but I may need some help, if you don’t mind?”  
“Yeah, of course just let me know when.” She thanked me for the coffee and left. The entire drive home I was mentally scolding myself for not wrapping the cut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I have an excuse. Finals. ew.

Luckily, we both had that weekend off, but I wanted to talk to her some more before she moved in, so we skyped. “Hey, Gray! How’s that cut?” She asks with in an enthusiastic tone.

                “Good, did you just call me Gray?” I respond with a furrowed brow.

                “Yeah, I give everyone nicknames.” She explains, “Sorry, I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

                “No, no it’s fine. But, I guess that just means I have to give you one.” She rolls her eyes, “How’s bout, Claire-voyant?”

                “Clever, I hate it.” She lets out a deep laugh.

                “Okay, let’s get to know each other. I’ll start, I’m a sex crimes detective. I’m a geek, I like everything from Star Wars to Assassin’s Creed. I cook dinner whenever I can, and I play loud music when I do so. I work five days a week, from nine A.M. to six P.M. Your turn.”

“You already know that I am a surgical intern, studying to be a pediatric surgeon. I’m a geek too but I haven’t played video games in a few years. I can’t cook to save my life.” Her face dropped at that last part. “I like whiskey, actually, I like all alcohol. Last, and most certainly least, I work eighty-hour weeks, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.”

                At this point I was tired, and I still needed to go on patrol, so I tried to get out of the conversation. “Well, I’m convinced. I trust you enough to have you as my roomie. I can off take whatever day you want to move; do you need any help moving in?”

“If it’s okay, I can move tomorrow. I would love the help, if you don’t mind.”

“Erm, yeah, tomorrow works. I just have to get groceries, and then I can help.”

                “Okay see you then, Gray!”

                “Bye bye.” I say, before ending the call. I get up and get ready to stop a few car jackings and B&Es. As I put on my suit all I can think about is how nice it will be to be around someone who doesn’t deal with murder, rape, and torture every day. The criminals of Bludhaven can be ruthless, some are even worse than those of Gotham. Sometimes I think Jason is right, he puts the bad guys down, so they don’t get back up and hurt more people.

                The next day she texted me her address. Her house was in a bad part of town, I recognized a couple of the buildings because I’d been shot, stabbed, and beaten senseless on almost every corner. When I pulled up to the small, single story house I texted her saying I’d arrived. I looked up and down the street seeing a house at the end of the block where I had shut down a heroin operation the year prior. I walk up to her house and knock. For a few seconds I don’t hear anything. Then a scream.


	4. A scream and a chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my B-day tomorrow and i start testing the next day so there may not be an update until next week.

A scream. A horrible blood curdling scream cut short by a crash and shattering glass. I try the door, it was unlocked, I go in and hear a man yell, “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING A LIITLE WHORE!!” I run in the direction of the voice, and see a tall, muscular, black haired man holding a chair with his back to me. She sees me, and her eyes get wide. “WHO IS HE, HUH? WHO IS GRAYSON?” I was shocked, had I caused this?   
“Hey! I heard you were lookin’ for me.” I call out in an attempt to switch his focus to me. He turns around and I see a face that would make even Batman go pale. He had a deep scar across his cheek, with crazed, pale grey, almost white eyes.   
“Mind your own fucking business!” He yells in response, throwing the chair by my head.  
“You’d better leave her alone. It would only be smart.” I say setting the chair upright, keeping him in my sight. He doesn’t reply, he just walks over to me, clenching his fists. I throw a preemptive punch to his jaw and he just collapses. Some people can take those punches, but others can’t. I rush over to Claire and ask, “Are you okay? Sorry stupid question.” I hand her my phone, “Here, call nine-one-one and tell them what happened.” I go back to the man looking for ID.  
His name is Leopold Mitchell, he is six feet tall, and one hundred and eighty-three pounds. I look back over to Claire and see that she is trying to stand, “No, no don’t try to stand, you’re hurt.” She looked at me as though to say, “No shit,” but sat back down nonetheless. I take in her appearance, she was crying. she had a cracked lip, and the beginnings of a black eye, her dress was torn, and her nose was bleeding.  
“Thank- thanks you, you r-really didn’t have to do that.” She says between sobs.   
“No, I did. I heard someone in trouble and I didn’t think twice. But this little waste of space should have.” I reply holding Leopold’s head up by his hair. “If I have any say in it, he’ll get life.” We hear sirens and don’t say anything else until the police come in.  
They come in with their guns raised saying, “Bludhaven PD! We got a call about someone being hurt?”  
“In here!” I yell in response. Claire flinches. “Sorry. Too loud?” She nods. two uniformed officers come in and see me first, as I am closer to the door.  
“Who are you!? What happened here.” One of them half yells while pointing his handgun at me.  
“Detective Richard Grayson, Homicide. These two need an ambulance and this one needs cuffs.” I say pointing at the man at my feet.  
“What happened here?” The officer repeats, while the other helps Claire to her feet.  
“Approached the house and heard a scream. I entered to find this man, Leopold Mitchell, physically attacking her, Claire Schoone. I will give a full statement later, but now I am going to the hospital with Claire.” I get up and walk to Claire asking, “Is there anything you need before you go to the hospital?”  
She drew a shaky breath, “Um, my- my coat?”  
“Absolutely.” I reply as I look around for her coat, seeing the coat rack by the door. As we walk out to the ambulance, I grab the coat saying, “I’m going to wrap it around your shoulders, okay?” she nods, and I do so. We get in the back of the ambulance and her injuries are assessed as we drive to the hospital. She holds my hand the entire way there.


End file.
